


Snowed In

by eeyore9990



Series: 30 Thankful Days [21]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Jealous Peter, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snapshot from a lazy winter morning in the life of Peter and Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowed In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mysenia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysenia/gifts).



> 30 Thankful Days, Day 21: Gift for Mysenia

Peter opened one eye, sleepily glaring around the room as he searched for the reason he was awake. Ah, yes, that was it. The other side of the bed was empty. 

Growling softly, he stretched his hand out and felt the sheets and pillow; still warm. With a long-suffering sigh, he sat up, pulling the heavy duvet around himself and allowing it to trail behind him as he got out of bed and went in search of Stiles. 

The gurgling of the coffee pot and the heady scent of Stiles’ special brew drew him to the kitchen, where he leaned against the doorway, fixing his glare back on his face. “You’re out of bed,” he said, voice gruff and accusing. 

Stiles turned from where he was watching the pot slowly fill and a short burst of laughter left him before he straightened, eyes glinting with amusement as he crossed the kitchen to Peter, smacking a kiss to the tip of his nose even as he raised a hand to try smoothing down the side of Peter’s hair. “You… look ridiculous. I thought I was getting in bed with the big bad wolf and now I see how very wrong I was. You’re more like a spoiled kitten than anything.” 

Peter sniffed, turning up his nose at the boy before brushing past him – incidentally knocking him roughly into the side of the refrigerator – his duvet trailing behind him like a royal train. “Be careful, little boy,” he muttered, removing the carafe from the machine, ignoring the drips that hit the hotplate as he poured the coffee into a prepared cup, taking only a little joy in the way the coffee immediately turned a creamy chocolate color. “This kitten has claws.” 

“Aww.” Stiles slipped up behind him, helping him nudge the carafe back under the drip tray as he nibbled on the back of Peter’s neck. “I had to take a piss, and I figured since I was up, I’d make you some coffee.” 

“I’d rather have slept longer.” 

“Yes, but technically I should have had to leave to go back to school in four hours. I thought if I woke you with a kiss and some coffee, we could spend the morning together doing things I can think about for the next two weeks while I jerk off.” Stiles’ hot breath made Peter’s skin pebble with goosebumps. 

Stilling, Peter replayed what Stiles had said to him in his mind. _School_ , _jerking off_ , yes, that was right and normal but there was something… His sleepy brain was too sluggish without his coffee yet, dammit. Then, it clicked. “Technically?” 

Stiles chuckled, his arms tightening for a moment before he went over to the window and opened the blinds with a Vanna White flourish. “ _Technically._ ” 

Beyond the window, the entire world was white, snow piled in great drifts, already just a few inches below the door handle of Stiles’ Jeep and it was still falling. Snow. 

_Snow_. 

In Beacon Hills. 

_California._

Peter stared at it, then blinked slowly and shifted his gaze to Stiles. “Explain.” 

Grinning, Stiles shrugged. “No fucking clue. I’m sure it probably has something to do with those sprites Scott ran into last week. And since Scott was the one who caused the problem…” 

“He has to fix it. Pack law is a lovely thing.” 

“Right? But I took a picture of that, a screenshot of the local weatherman losing his mind, and sent them off to my professors with scans of my work and notes. I’ve got at least two days before I have to head back now, and that’s assuming the snow melts before then.” Stiles raised his eyebrows and began to slowly back out of the kitchen, one hand out and dragging along the wall to provide him some support. 

Peter grabbed his coffee, gathered the ends of the duvet up in his free hand, and followed after Stiles. When Stiles let out a loud laugh and spun, racing into the bedroom and leaping on the bed, Peter went up on his tiptoes, allowing his teeth to drop as he bared them and turned his easy stride into a _stalk_. Stiles gasped, eyes wide as he feigned fright, hands curling together over his chest. 

“What big teeth you have!” 

Peter carefully set his coffee on the bedside table and flung the duvet over the bed in something resembling order. It covered Stiles’ feet, so that was all that mattered. Lifting the edge, he crawled back under it, sliding in beside Stiles and then cuddling closer. “Not eating you out again until the beard burn on your ass is gone. I don’t feel like listening to you bitch about it over skype while your roommate clutches his pearls in the background.” 

Stiles tugged and shifted the duvet until it was right side up, then he pulled it over their heads. “Josh was home schooled, you can’t hold that against him. He didn’t even know what Pornhub was before we were assigned to be roommates.” 

The icy burn of jealousy curled through Peter’s belly. “And how _did_ that come up in casual conversation?” 

“I had to explain to him about the sock on the doorknob rule. I said something about him needing alone time while watching porn and he just went, ‘what’s that’ and… Peter. It was like watching a baby duckling fly the first time. If I do nothing else in my life, I will have done _something_ to leave an impact on this earth.” 

“Are you telling me you rocked this young man’s world?” 

Stiles yanked the duvet back down, studying Peter’s face. “Baby duckling, Peter. He’s a _baby duckling_. What in my personal history makes you believe I’d ever be attracted to a baby duckling? I’m much too fascinated by dangerous creatures to go for a baby fucking duckling.” 

Grumbling – but jealousy satisfied at the inherent truthfulness of that statement – Peter scooted even closer to Stiles until he was nearly underneath him. “Put the covers back. It’s too cold.” 

“Big baby.” When the warm darkness enveloped them again, Stiles shifted around, pressing Peter into the mattress. “You’re cold?” Stiles asked, big hands sliding up and down Peter’s arms, his body undulating slowly on top of Peter’s. 

Peter’s cock stirred, the lazy hum of arousal waking in him at Stiles’ touch. “It’s snowing out. Of course I’m cold.” 

“Yeah. I think that means we should stay in bed all day. Cuddling.” 

“Cuddling? Is that what you call this?” Peter asked, rolling his hips into Stiles’, breath breaking. 

Stiles tilted his head, sucking at Peter’s lips. “Yeah,” he murmured in between kisses. “That okay with you?” 

Peter flicked his claws out, dragging them lightly over Stiles’ ass just because. “I suppose I’ll have to put up with your cuddles. It’s the price I pay for taking such a young, innocent lover.” 

When Stiles finished giggling over Peter’s use of the word _innocent_ in relation to himself, Peter urged Stiles to rock against him harder, then spread his legs just a little, lay back, and let Stiles do all the labor of working them both to a lazy, early morning orgasm. Which was really why he had taken such a young lover. 

The energy of youth. 

Really. The only reason. 

It had nothing to do with early morning cuddles and perfectly prepared coffee. Nor an engaging brain and a delectable body. 

Nothing at all. 


End file.
